


Razor's Edge

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he begins his incarceration in Sona prison, Alexander Mahone is surprised to find T-Bag approach him with a somewhat unusual "request".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Razor's Edge

“Well, lookie what the cat dragged in.”

Alex turned slowly around to face Theodore Bagwell, the most dangerous of the escapees.

“I see you just couldn't stay away from prison. Did you miss it that much?” Alex sneered, looking with distaste at the smaller man.

“Only thang I missed, was the tail,” Bagwell quipped, and Alex suddenly remembered his prison name from the reports. T-Bag.

“T-Bag, isn't it?” Alex asked, and the other man made a fake bow.

“The very same. And you, mister agent, are...?”

“Surely you remember,” Alex said, finding that he and T-Bag were circling each other as they talked. “I was on the news every other day of the man hunt, talking about how the government was going to take you down.”

“Oh, that's right, Mahone,” the other man mused, still circling like a predator. “I'm surprised to see ya up in here; did ya annoy the president?”

Alex cocked his head to one side. “I assume Scofield didn't tell you all about the big conspiracy, then? The Company and his brother's being set up?”

T-Bag shrugged. “Might have mentioned it. Not that I cared. He was a ticket outta there.”

Alex nodded carefully. “Is he your ticket out of here, too?”

T-Bag sneered. “Now why would ya say that? Scofield ain't gettin' out unless he's bein' pardoned, just like the rest of us. This ain't like Fox River; he's stuck here. An' even if he was...”

They moved until they were standing directly opposite each other over a water barrel.

“I got it good here, Mahone. See that man up there? Know who he is?”

Alex glanced quickly at the man standing on a balcony-like structure, and knew instantly that he was the man in charge of Sona.

Alex met T-Bag's eyes unflinchingly. “Your new master, I see.”

T-Bag grinned. “See, I know what's best for me,” he chuckled darkly. “Do you, mister Mahone?”

Alex began slowly backing away, but T-Bag followed him. The murderer was a stalking animal, and he'd spotted a prey. Alex didn't know what the smaller man imagined he'd get from him (he was taller and likely better trained), but the glint in T-Bag's eyes warned him not to scoff at the possible threat.

“Now, I've been in here 'bout a week,” the Alabamian explained, walking after Alex who was trying to move into the shadows of one of the buildings. “And before that, I was on the run for I don't know how long. In addition to all that...”

They were in a dark corner of the yard now, and Alex noticed a door to his right. His back was dangerously close to the wall.

“... Scofield had me livin' in celibacy for weeks after my cellie went an' snapped his neck,” T-Bag finished, looking at Alex with a vicious grin.

“Don't even think about it, Bagwell!” Alex growled, his body tensing slowly, ready to release a coil of strength on the smaller man should he attempt anything.

“Oh, but I am thinkin' 'bout it,” the other man drawled. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Alex was reminded of a snake testing the air. “An' seein' as I got some connections in here ya might not want to, uh, offend...”

“What are you gonna do, Bagwell? Make him and his crew hold me down for you? Somehow I don't think you want to do that to your reputation in here,” Alex said, casting around his mind for the best ways of taking a man out quickly and silently. He could break the other man's neck. Just one clean snap, and the world would have one less paedophile rapist to worry about.

Alex was about to lunge for the other man when T-Bag beat him to it; the smaller man was deceptively fast and as Alex reacted to keep T-Bag's hands off him, he didn't notice the razor blade come out of the murderer's mouth until it was digging into his neck, just an inch from his main artery.

Alex froze immediately. He'd been an agent long enough to recognize a situation he couldn't win with force.

“There we go,” T-Bag panted, grinning manically. “Now, through that there door, Mahone, if you'd be so kind...”

Alex opened the door and let T-Bag follow him inside before shutting it. The dark was broken only by a small window, high on the wall. It turned out to be some sort of hallway, and it seemed empty.

“Bagwell, I hope you know that I would rather die than bend over for you,” Alex said, smirking nastily at the other man. It was true. He didn't want to die, but he damn sure wasn't taking it from T-Bag, either.

“This don't require anyone bendin' anywhere,” was the reply, and suddenly Alex found himself pressed up against the wall again, only this time he felt the hard body of a murderer pressed against his own. “Take 'em off.”

Alex stood perfectly still. “I said -”

“I heard what ya said, an' I don't care two straws!” T-Bag barked, then grinned again. “See, I'm the one with the blade. An' ya know what, Mahone? Stop actin' like a baby. This ain't gonna hurt either one of us.”

Alex sneered at the other man in the darkness of the dirty hallway. “So you're just going to make me give you a handjob, I guess?”

T-Bag pressed the razor blade harder to his skin. “Push your trousers down. Then do me the same courtesy.”

Alex did. He could have chosen to die, right there in the dark, pressed against a convict of the worst kind, but instead he chose to obey.

After all, what with the Company and his drug problem and so on and so forth, he'd been through worse.

“Thank you, mister Mahone,” T-Bag purred, and Alex felt shivers of nervous anticipation run down his spine at the sound.

T-Bag's erection was pressed against his hip, and Alex swallowed heavily. He hadn't felt anything like that since he was in his early twenties – “experimenting”. The feeling of the other man's pulsing hardness was enticing.

“And now?” Alex rasped, interested despite himself in what the other man had in mind.

No answer. T-Bag merely started grinding their hips together, slowly, razor blade ever pressed to Alex' skin. Sweat was slicking their skin, making them slide deliciously together as Alex stood perfectly still, T-Bag thrust his hips against the other man.

Alex was getting hard.

_Shit!_

The friction of skin against skin, the dampness of sweat, the darkness made it impossible to stay calm. Alex' breath came faster. T-Bag was panting against his neck, the razor blade now held between his teeth. Alex didn't notice this until the hand that had previously been holding it, grabbed a hold of his hip and forcibly moved his groin to collide with the murderer's.

“Is this it?” Alex panted, letting himself move with the heat. It wasn't half bad. No pain. No complications. Only two cocks pushing together, two men grinding their pleasure out of each other. “What happened... to... jerking off, Bagwell?”

In response, the hand moved from his hip to his stomach, slipped under his shirt and travelled up towards his chest. Touching. Clawing.

“I find... myself in need... of company,” T-Bag hissed, dragging his fingernails down Alex' chest until he almost drew blood. “Just ain't the same on your own.” The razor blade was returned to his hand.

The words hitched in his throat as they collided particularly violently; Alex moaned at the sensation and fought to keep his hands hanging limply by his sides. He wanted to grab the other man, turn him around and...

_No._

“Yesss!” T-Bag hissed again, his body twitching.

Alex found himself impossibly aroused. T-Bag had steered him into desperation and he needed relief. “Bagwell, do... fucking do something!”

“I would-a,” the smaller man panted, still grinding against the agent. “If I hadn't been so sure ya'd kill me if I let this blade off your skin.”

Said blade scraped gently against Alex' pulse point. The agent groaned loudly, unable to stop himself.

This was driving him mad. The feeling of another man against himself was overwhelming after so long without any sexual contact, but it wasn't enough. Not by far.

Deciding to hell with it, Alex pushed one hand between them, grasping both their erections as well as he could with one hand. “Fuck you, Bagwell; I...”

His sentence died in a gasp as T-Bag bit hard on his shoulder; bit hard and licked lasciviously over the bite mark afterwards. He began stroking; hard, steady, desperate to finish it.

T-Bag moaned loudly and Alex tilted his head back, letting the other man latch onto his throat again. This time he could feel a hot tongue and lips roaming from his earlobe to his collar bone; it was unnervingly arousing and he knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

Alex closed his hand tighter around their cocks. He could feel T-Bag pulsing against his fingers; could feel the other man's breath becoming gasps and his body tightening...

And then T-Bag came in Alex' hand; came groaning a name that was drowned in the damp skin of the agent's neck and coating their hips and cocks in sticky liquid.

“Fuck,” Alex panted, “fuck fuck fuck...”

And then T-Bag suddenly dropped to his knees, slapped Alex' hand out of the way, and swallowed every inch of his cock.

Alex cried out. The murderer was on his knees in front of the agent, sucking him almost desperately; tongue working furiously and his one good hand clutching at the jeans pushed down around Alex' thighs.

Stars exploded behind Alex' eyes; he let his head fall back and with a howl of pleasure, came down T-Bag's throat.

“Fuck!”

Panting, shivering, he looked down at the man on his knees. _What the hell just happened?_

T-Bag looked up at him, unable to completely conceal the confusion and fear Alex saw in his eyes. Then the mask of confident malice slid back over the gaunt face, and the brown eyes reflected nothing but victory.

“Who was he?” Alex asked. “The one whose name you just screamed.”

T-Bag shot to his feet with a vicious snarl. “It ain't a 'he'! An' you just keep your nose outta other people's business, FBI, or I'll cut it clean off.”

Alex did his best to shrug nonchalantly, then did his trousers back up. “Fine. After all, you did suck my cock.”

T-Bag hit him then. Hard. Alex stumbled, prepared to hit back, but before his head had cleared, T-Bag was out the door, doing his own trousers up as he went.

***

Alex was standing in the middle of the yard the next time T-Bag approached him. The Alabamian's voice reached Alex' ears before he could even see him.

“In need of company again?” Alex asked, smirking.

“His name was Maytag.” The poisonous voice slithered through Alex' mind. “An' I fucked him hard, every night, for two years. You should-a heard him scream when I first threw him on my bunk an' claimed his fine ass. Too bad he didn't live to get outta Fox River with me. Still, he was a good-lookin' corpse.”

Alex felt a wave of nausea roll over him, and heard T-Bag's laughter as the other man walked away.


End file.
